


sharp blades of a different kind

by warlockdetective



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Bertrand is GOOD, First Kiss, Lemony is STRESSED, M/M, Pre-Canon, it's LONG before ASoUE but it's a little after AtWQ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24518911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warlockdetective/pseuds/warlockdetective
Summary: He grips the blades of grass beneath his palms as he tries to focus on something,anything, besides himself right now.
Relationships: Bertrand Baudelaire/Lemony Snicket
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	sharp blades of a different kind

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part of a collection of fics I'm writing based off of [this prompt list](https://blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms.tumblr.com/post/159975698721/prompt-list), and I'm honestly really happy with how this one turned out!  
> Honest feedback is appreciated.

He catches his hands shaking a little as he talks to them, and it takes everything he has to keep himself from focusing too much on that. He grips the blades of grass beneath his palms as he tries to focus on something, _anything_ , besides himself right now.

He feels one of their hands rest atop his, and what little air that was left in his lungs seems to leave him completely when he catches the look of concern in their eyes as they ask, "Is everything alright?" Their hands are warm, and it reminds him of the comfort of a heavy blanket on a cold night. Their fingers intertwine, and Lemony needs to _breathe_ or else he won't be able to talk...ever again, probably. Yeah, that's not a stretch in his mind.

"Y-yeah," he stutters, mentally kicking himself at the fact. He's usually so good with words! _What_ is happening to him right now? Well, he knows what's happening; he's in their company, and _only_ their company. It's something he never dared possible, them wanting to spend time with him in this sort of sense. Clearing his throat, he tries to say, "B, I--"

"You don't have to talk in code. Not here," they interject, and there's a softness in their eyes that Lemony can't dare himself to look away from as they add, "Not with me, anyway."

"...Bertrand." No other words will leave him as soon as he speaks, and he feels a blush spreading across his cheeks as he notices his hands shaking again. Lemony takes a quick breath, but when no words will come to him again, he finds himself relying on an old saying he spoke long ago, almost like a mantra of sorts: Do the scary thing first, get scared later.

And yet when Lemony presses his lips against Bertrand's, his head feels as if it's spinning as his thoughts return front and center, and panic seizes him as he pulls away. He tries to apologize, be it for how forward he was or how much he's shaking, but words refuse to leave him.

His panic is on the verge of growing until he suddenly feels one of Bertrand's hands cup his cheek, and the warmth of it is overwhelming. He finds himself leaning to kiss Bertrand again, but something stops him. "I'm…was that alright?" he asks, the weight of Bertrand's palm the only thing keeping him grounded in the present.

"Well, it was a shock, of course, but it was nice," Bertrand admits, and something about it lifts the weights off of Lemony's shoulders. That is, until he hears, "Do you want to do that again?"

Oh. Oh he _hadn't_ expected this response, but did Bertrand actually want to kiss him again, or was it just a kind offer? "Do _you_ want to do that again?"

"Only if you're comfortable with it. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm…" Lemony feels the flush of his cheeks as his answer comes to light, a soft laugh leaving him as he admits, "I'm alright. More than alright. I'm a little overwhelmed, but that's a given, I suppose. I-it's getting kind of late, and I know you probably didn't intend on staying out this long--"

Lemony's words trail to a halt when he feels Bertrand's hand move to brush aside the hair that had begun to fall in his eyes before returning to rest against his cheek, murmuring, "You're rambling, Lemony." Lemony stills again, and he's relieved to find that, for perhaps the first time tonight, a feeling of panic doesn't follow it.


End file.
